


My Starchild

by WAKAWAKA3514



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Marty's POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-24 04:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7493838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WAKAWAKA3514/pseuds/WAKAWAKA3514
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and Marty use to be a lot close than Greg would dare to admit. When he finally got away, it was easy to see how Marty was using him in more ways than one. But it was harder for Greg to get away than he ever thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Had this floating in my head for a while, but wanted to get it out on paper before the incoming 'Steven Nuke' of Season 3 wipes out all my headcanons.

A harsh drag fills my lungs. I hold it there. Another hour of driving till we reach our destination. But for this moment, I have peace. Clarity of mind. Minimal stress. Till I stick my head out the window to blow out the smoke. Irritates the talent. Can't blame him, irritates me too. Also irritates me that I have to take in 70 mile an hour wind just so this log sleeping in the back can be ready for the next show. Not that it matters much. I spot a big pair of headlights up ahead, belonging to a much bigger truck. The entire van rattles as it passes by. I wince, the snoring stops. I toss out the remaining half of the cig, and wait for the inevitable.

"Ugg, Marty, have you been smoking in here again?" I can feel the small shifts in the van as the kid in the back lumbers forward and plops himself onto the passenger seat.

"Don't worry about it, Starchild. Had the window open so it wouldn't bother you. You should go back to sleep, big day tomorrow." I look sideways tentatively, hoping he'll just crawl back to the bed. 

"I just don't want you getting that smoke smell stuck in my van." Greg rubs his eyes as we pass a well lit turn off. 

I grip the wheel tight than I should. "So what! You want me to pull over and step out every time I'm fancying a little cigarette!"

"Hey man, don't be like that, I just worry about th-"

"Don't be like what! Don't cater to your whims? Don't offer to do the things you want me to do!" I'm not even trying to contain my voice anymore.

"I didn't mean that, that's not what I mean!" He's panicking at this point, something inside me always loved to see him like this. 

"You know what, no!" I slam on the breaks and pull the car into a small ditch on the side of the road. "If you want it like this, you'll get it like this!"

"What are you doing?" I hear Greg yell behind me as I kick the door open. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I pull out a pack and fumble around with the lighter. I can hear Greg open the door and wander around the side of the van, taking his time to avoid the tall, pokey grass I carelessly parked so close too. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

"I thought, this is was you wanted, no smoking in the van." I take a big drag to try to calm myself from everything that just happened. 

"No- I mean, It'll be ok if you have your head out the window." Greg lifts his bare foot off the ground and knocks off some of the dirt. "Plus if we stop every time we wanted to smoke, we'd probably never make it."

"Heh," More of a laugh to relieve tension than anything. "I'd probably get irritated that the drive is taking so long and just light another one. Then get irritated that the drive is taking so long, and never get back in the van to start driving."

"Yea, then you probably start yelling at me to start busking on the side of the highway, so we'd be at least making some money." Greg adds. 

"Great idea, glad I came up with it. Get your guitar, I think I see some headlights now." I can't help but bust out laughing as Greg hurriedly looks around, trying to determine if I'm serious or not. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Besides, this would be a horrible crowd. Probably wouldn't even stay and listen for two notes before they went speeding off into the distance."

"We got that t-shirt cannon, we could probably still sell some merch." Greg adds.

"Or break their windows for not even giving you the time of day!" I say as I crush the remainder of the cigarette in my hand. I've only smoked a third of it, combined with the third I smoked earlier, and being 90% sure I'll get another third once we hit the road, I'll be fine. 

Greg moves his eyes between me and my hand, trying to figure out if I hurt myself gripping a lit cigarette. "You need me to drive, Marty?"

I loosen the grip on the spent cig, letting it and it's ashes fall to the ground. I knock off he remainder and turn to Greg, "I need you to rest, Starchild." I move my hand to set Greg's long hair behind his ear, "You know how you get when you don't get your beauty sleep."

"M-Marty," Greg uneasily blurts out, "Y-you shouldn't."

"Come on, how long has it been since you've used this thing?" I move myself to shove my body him against, and move my hand down to his crotch, "You know you shouldn't have so much energy trapped inside you, and I know that nothing makes you fall asleep faster."

I can see him trying to put up a token resistance, "Smoke breath- doesn't really- get me in the mood."

"Your mouth says one thing, but your pecker says another." I'm running circles around the tip of his cock with the lightest touch of my finger. I can feel him shudder when I brush my fingers down his neck. 

"W-Why do I let you do this to me?" He tries to slide away, but I slam my hand against the van and he stops. 

"You move only when I tell you to move." I wait for him to nod in agreement. "Back of the van."

I lift up my hand and follow him as he climbs onto the mattress we have set up in back. He plops down face up and waits for me to climb on top. I slowly slide myself on top of him, bearing my hips right below his crotch and start caressing him. I've rarely met a man more sensitive, shuddering so much as I move my fingers past his ear and over his chest. I can feel every pump of blood make his pants grow tighter until I finally release what's underneath. I've seen it before, but it doesn't make it any less impressive. Light caresses getting heavier and heavier as he gets harder and harder. I don't think he's touched himself since I did this last time. The moaning from him when I grab his fully erect member makes it almost self evident. But I love each and every moan from him. 

He tries to reach up and grab my face, but I take his hand and pin it against the bed above his head. "I'm the one in control here." I whisper between my teeth. 

"I'm close," Greg lightly moans between his heavy breaths.

"Good." I start moving my hand as quick as it can go, "Cum for me."

"Say it." He breaths out.

"Cum for me."

"Say it!" He demands.

I bend down to his ear, and whisper out, "Cum for me, my Starchild."

I can only watch in wonder as his whole body tenses up. His hand I have pinned down grips my own tight enough that it hurts, his other hand on my hip grips tight enough that I wouldn't be surprised if it leaves a bruise. I try not to have any of his seed land on me as it shoots out so vigorously, but it's difficult with how close we are, and with how much he bucks his hips. 

He's out like a light almost instantly. Snoring before I even get his dick tucked back in. That's ok, getting him to sleep was exactly what I wanted him to do. If this always happens, I feel kinda bad about any girl he's managed to sleep with. I look around to get some of this cum off my jacket, and I end up just wiping it on Greg's shirt. He can take it off in the morning. I carefully get up and make my way to the front of the van, stepping around his limbs, hair and jizz. 

I start the van, roll down the window, and light a cigarette.


	2. Chapter 2

_Not gonna stop till I'm a star,_  
_Don't you know we've come so far,_  
_But we've got so far to go,_  
_It's reachable, I know._

Decent sized bar, decent crowd, decent amount of the crowd paying attention to the stage. Should be decent money. Already had a few people buy an album, and one buy a t-shirt. I take a moment from manning the merch booth to take a leak, and wander around getting a good feel for the crowd. Not a lot that's too negative being said about the music, but most people are just here doing what they would normally do on a Friday night. Go to the bar, meet with friends, drink booze that's a bit too expensive, and listen to music that too loud for it's own good. I plop myself against an inch of the wall that has some decent ambiance, and let myself listen for a moment. 

_No-ho-ho, we're never gonna sto-ah-op_  
_Never till we reach the to-ah-op_

This bar is hotter than it should be, he's starting to sweat. Right now, he looks great, healthy glow, glistening that seems to bring out his muscles. I admit, I've been treating him a bit too much on his tour, too much donuts to go with the coffee. Letting him fall behind on his workout schedule. But right now, he looks quite hot, in more than one sense of the word. I make a mental note to bring him a water bottle before his next song. 

_You know that we're so close_  
_Gonna make all the big name shows_

I feel the wall shake a bit next to me so I look over. A girl started leaning against the wall right next to me. Cute one too. Long blond hair, leather jacket with spikes on it. 

She smiles at me. “What do you think of the music?”

I smile back. “He's good. I'm hoping he goes someplace.”

The girl huffs, “Maybe he will if he ever writes a song about something other than wanting to be famous.”

I turn to her, and lean over a bit so I'm glaring down at her. “How much do you know about getting people famous?”

She cocks her head at me, “Say, what brings you to Ocean Town?”

“They had a bar that would let us play on a crowded Friday night.” I say tilting my head in the direction of the stage.

“Hmm, so you're with him?”

I pull out a business card. “I'm Mr. Universe's manager. The names Marty.”

She glances down at the card, then pushes me back towards the wall. “My names Vidalia.”

I put the card back in my pocket and straiten my jacket. “You'll have to excuse me, all this touring has me a bit on edge.” I look towards Greg, he's pretty close to being done with this song. “Plus we got a good deal more to do. Beach City tomorrow, then four different places in Empire City next week.”

“Beach City...” 

“Yea, neat little town off 95, bit out of the way, but I've heard it's got a pretty good beach. Hence the name.”

“No, I've heard of it, I live there.”

“Oh, well. You think there's gonna be a good crowd?”

“Ehh, Place has a major 'family friendly' vibe to it. Doesn’t have a lot of stuff that someone wouldn't feel comfortable bringing a 5 year old to.”

I have to scrunched up my face hearing news like that. That was one of the venues where we could only get money off the crowd. Not like here were the owner paid us to make the place more lively. “Can I see you there, at least?”

Vidalia thinks for a moment before finally saying, “Maybe.”

I lean over to her, taking a finger and lightly caressing her chin to line up with my own. “I'd love to see you there. A pretty face like your would be sure to make the place seem lively.”

She begins to lean towards me before stopping and saying, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

I lean closer so our mouths are a hair's breath away from touching each other, “Only the pretty ones.”

Our lips barely touch each other before I hear this resounding crescendo of Greg finishing his song, which makes me straighten up and look towards the stage. He looks happy, but he's breathing heavy. I turn back to Vidalia, “Sorry, I got to help the talent, I'll see you tomorrow, right?” 

Vidalia just squints at me and I run off before waiting for an answer. I pass by the bar on the way and slip off with a bottle of water without the bartender noticing. I lean over the edge of the stage and snap twice, “Hey Starchild, feeling good?”

Greg takes a second to snap out of the trance he's in and look back to me. “Yea,” He says between heavy breaths, “You know I love it up here.”

“Awesome,” I hand the water bottle to him and say in a much more demanding voice, “Drink the whole thing.”

Greg doesn't hesitate to uncap and take half of it in one gulp. He catches his breath and asks, “How much longer am I up here?”

I make a motion for him to continue drinking his water, “Just twenty more minuets.”

He nearly spits out his water, “Twenty more minuets!” I try to not show disgust as I feel a drop land on my cheek. I don't think I succeeded in that manner, but the irony isn't lost on me being repulsed considering what other fluids of his has found his way onto my face. He manages to recompose himself before continuing, “I only know like two other songs!”

“Just sing whatever's on top of your head, man! Isn't that what songwriter's do?” I can't help but laugh a bit at the way his face is distorted. “Hell, you sung a twenty minuet sad ballet about snakes yesterday!”

“They don't have any legs!” Greg pleaded.

“Just sing whatever you want, and make it sound great.” I encourage him, giving him a soft smile I know makes him melt. He seems to soften up a bit and turns to the crowd. I give him a hard slap on the ass to shove him closer to the microphone. “I know you can do it, Starchild!” I can't help but laugh as he gives me a split second glare.

I spot a couple looking over the merch booth and run towards them to see if I can upsell them on anything, or at least make sure they don't walk away without paying, as Greg begins to strum a few cords into his guitar. I barely listen to him as most of my attention is focused on getting that sweater/shirt/poster/CD combo package upsell.

_Tell me, what am I to you?_  
_I think I know, but do I do?_  
_An explanation is overdue,_  
_What do I need to get through?_

_You seem content to have nothing,_  
_Sometimes just content to let it be,_  
_With you I can feel on top of the world,_  
_Or like the world is on top of me._

_Could I ask for a storybook romance?_  
_A long night for a slow dance,_  
_Could I ask you for a chance,_  
_To get your hand out of my pants?_

_Tell me, what am I to you?_  
_I don't think I have a clue,_  
_It'd be easier if I knew,_  
_If this was a game or something true._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Write from your life, that's what I always say.


End file.
